


A Sweet Taste

by orphan_account



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bara Sans, Based off Underswap Sans, But can technically be any Snas, Ecto-Tongue, F/M, Fear Play, I suppose, Large Sans, Mouth Kink, No Ecto-Dongs, Ossi has corrupted me, Primal Sans, Sensitive Hands, Smol Reader, Underswap Sans, Vore, ambiguous reader, gender neutral reader, non-con, oh goodness, sorta - Freeform, this is sin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:34:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6103471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Sans spend a relaxing day polishing off some Valentine's chocolates.</p><p> </p><p>And then things escalate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sweet Taste

**Author's Note:**

> This is all Ossi's fault. It started with us just talking about tumblr's Plushy's newest son, Gumball. Speculating and the such. Then we went to our own versions of the US Snas and sinned like the sinners we are. And then this happened. More in the end notes.
> 
> Edit: Plushy's! I meant Plushy's! Whoops!

  You don't know the exact moment where it all goes wrong, really.

  It had started out innocent enough. You had been laid out on your beloved's stomach, casually feeding him chocolates from the heart shaped box that was on the floor next to the two of you. Your hand had been in the middle of mindlessly extracting another treat from the box when he has pulled you up for a long, languid kiss. By the time the two of you had separated your body heat had efficiently melted the chocolate that you had been holding. Your lover, being the giant, lovey-dovey nerd that he is, decided then that the best course of action would be to lick your hand clean.

  At first you giggled and tried to pull away, his tongue tickling you as it swept between your fingers and over the sensitive middle of your palm. A light blue blush adorned his face as the pin pricks of light that made up his pupils watched you, his eyes flicking into tiny hearts as you squeal when he nips the flesh between your thumb and forefinger lightly. He flips your hand palm up in order to drag his tongue over the veins on your wrist and your fingers rub lightly against the roof of his mouth.

  A shiver runs down his spine as his eyes go slightly hazy. Had you been paying closer attention then you might've realized that this where things went from innocent and lovey to, well, something much less so.

  His gaze slowly loses focus as his grip on your wrist becomes more solid, not quite painful but certainly unmovable. It doesn't take long for his tongue to stop teasing the sensitive parts of your hand as it instead begins focusing on the dryer areas, his saliva thickening enough to leave a blue coating in his wake. It's almost as though he's tasting you, you muse, as you give another tug to your arm. But his grip is like stone and he instead pulls you closer to his gaping maw, tongue moving from your wrist to forearm as he slowly inches your hand farther into his mouth.

  It's not until his tongue, which is several inches further along than his jaw, reaches your elbow that you allow your fear and confusion to begin to take over. You place the hand that he's not currently devouring whole onto his shoulder, using it as leverage when you next try to tug free.

"Sans, please, you're scaring me!"

  You tug harder, putting your weight into it as his teeth brush past your elbow. A deep growl from his chest has you freezing in place, fear filling your entire being. One of his hands presses against your back, encouraging you to lean into him, forcing you to when you hesitate too long. You wiggle in a desperate attempt for some final bid to escape as he begins to near the half way point of your upper arm. While the arm that's currently down his throat doesn't feel as though it's touching anything, you can still feel what you assume is his throat squease around you slightly as he swallows.

  His other hand comes up to settle itself around your neck, fingers long enough to encircle it completely. You immediately stop wriggling as another shot of fear runs through you, instead opting to turn your head to the side and allow a few tears escape. His teeth are nearly at your shoulder now and you're scared, and confused, and several more things that you really, really shouldn't be feeling right now but can't bring yourself to care much in your current state. You just want to go back to when the two of you were just relaxing and sharing chocolates, is that too much to ask?

  *You sniffle lightly, and in a last bid of DESPERATION, silently call out for help.

  The front door downstairs slams open.

  You both freeze and you inhale sharply, hope filling your chest faster than the air does. Sans is equally as still, his expression torn between primal hunger and confusion. Someone calls out and Sans blinks as though waking up from a deep sleep. You take that moment to jump backwards off his lap and pull free, booking it out the door in the same motion. A small part of you register your savior being Papyrus, who's home early from work. but you don't stop.  Instead you continue down the stairs and out the door, ignoring any attempts he may have made to get your attention.

  You don't stop until you're safe in your house, door bolted in several different ways and bedroom door blocked by the nearest piece of movable furniture. You then find the smallest nook in your room and curl into it, quickly breaking down into a shaking, sniveling, mess of human. You're not sure how long you spend there, your mind constantly repeating variations of "thank god" and "what if" as it replays what happened over and over again. Eventually, you fall into a restless sleep, dreams of a heated, blue tongue and unyielding hands jolting you awake throughout the night.

  "What if," indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> But, just to be clear, this isn't Gumball. It doesn't even have to be Underswap Sans. I just labelled it as such due to seeing US Sans as more of a licking/tasting kinda guy. 
> 
> UT Sans probably likes bruises and UF dragging his teeth and nails across your skin, leaving light bites and the such. UT probably likes more mental games, too. 
> 
> I'm getting carried away.


End file.
